Spiritual Fatigue and the Prodigal’s Brother

 “Bone-tired,” she said. “I sense a deep, deep tiredness.” The spiritual director told me during a four-day retreat.

Although I had been sick this year more than ever, it wasn’t just physical tiredness. Although my mental health was nose-diving, it wasn’t just emotional strain. It was deeper. That place beyond, a spiritual fatigue I didn’t want to admit. But I was in grave need of that soul-deep rest. My bone-tired body needed restoration of the Gospel. What IS the good news? Had I forgotten? I didn’t think so. But to have good news, we first need to acknowledge the bad news. What was my bad news I had been trying to avoid? That I can’t save them. I can’t prevent them from pain, suffering, or making choices that will lead to slavery. That I can be good, but never “good enough.” That I can’t fill that hole or fix that space in people’s lives or even my own heart. That no matter how hard I work, there will still always be work to do. And I cannot do it on my own.

I don’t doubt the Lord’s love, power, sovereignty; I trust Him completely. I’ve seen Him do miracles and I know He’ll do them again. I watch as He welcomes back the prodigals and celebrates them and I rejoice, too! After all, they are also my children, too. I cry and weep for joy, I thank God. But at the end of the day, when the lights are out and darkness settles in, and the house is quiet except for the hum of solar batteries or my noisy fridge, and I go into my bedroom and find a scorpion on the floor, or a cockroach, or I leave my bathroom light on because even though I’m a grown woman, sometimes I’m still scared…My tears turn inward, from sorrow and a deep yearning, not from joy. From a deep cry of wanting the fattened calf slaughtered for me, too. I start to tailspin. God, when will you do something for me personally? Who will you send to take care of me? When I am weary, scared, weak, sick? Who will carry this burden with me? Why do you send me out among the wolves, to do battle for you while I’m just as important as the prodigals, too?

(And He says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” -2 Cor 12:9)

My spiritual fatigue had twisted the Gospel. I saw God not as a loving Father or best friend, but as an army commander, giving me instructions that I obey because I love Him. (You see that shift? The hidden pride and misinterpreted Gospel? I love God, not that He loves me.)  Someone asked me, “Are you sure that’s God you’re hearing/obeying? Are you sure it’s God giving you those commands?” Or is it my own demands masked as God, or worst yet Satan, the wolf in lamb’s clothing, making God look like a sheep in wolf’s clothing?  

And then the Prodigal Son story hit me all at once. I am still the brother, asking the Lord, “In all my faithfulness to you…all I’ve done for you…the good, the obedience, my loyalty and my love…. And you kill the fattened calf for the one who betrayed you? I’m fine celebrating those people, but what about me?” And just as the father had to remind the son, God reminded me, “I don’t have to kill the fattened calf for you, because all that I have – is yours. Kate, all that I have, is yours. You have access to ANYTHING and everything you will ever need. Because you’ve been faithful and loyal, I have put in you charge of my household and land, not just to work it but to ENJOY it! It is YOURS.”

This ministry is not just to work but to enjoy. In my fear of not being cared for, I got swept away by anxiety. But when has God ever failed me yet? Has there ever been a time I was sick and not cared for? Sad and not comforted by a hug or even a kind comment from a stranger? Struggling and not prayed for? Frustrated and not encouraged, by random donations or words of encouragement? I mean, honestly, there has never been a time in my entire life where I was left unaided. [A recent story: A woman I don’t know donated on our website and left a note saying she was praying for us and my name came specifically. As she prayed for me, she felt God tell her He wants to give me a book. She thought maybe there was a book I really wanted but wasn’t able to buy, so she then donated money but sent, “God wants to give you a book!” What she didn’t know is that I’d been so discouraged in finishing my second book, that I was giving up. I was worried about what people are gonna think, it’s not perfect yet, maybe it’s just for me and I don’t need to publish it, etc. And then here God is, across an ocean, encouraging me through a complete stranger to finish my book, that it’s HIS desire to give it to me.]

No, we are not given escapes from pain and suffering – no matter how “good” you are, no one can earn their way out of pain. But we are given graces for EVERY SINGLE MOMENT we face, that we may not only endure it, but that we may be transformed through it or aid others in their own transformation journeys, too.

Sometimes, it feels easier being the prodigal, wandering off but coming back home, knowing the Father will never reject you – rather than the one that stayed. Maybe the Gospel seems easier to comprehend that way. Maybe the prodigal’s brother didn’t understand the gospel like his lost-and-found brother. Sometimes it’s easier to forget the Father’s love when you’re the one who stayed. Because sometimes staying is boring or monotonous. And then we forget…the entire Gospel. We forget not just who we are or what we already have, but we forget Whose we are, and we forget the immeasurable gifts of our inheritance as sons and daughters of the King of Kings. We don’t have to lose it all to find it again, like the Prodigal Son. We can rejoice that we never have to trade it in. Because Jesus already traded His own life for our inheritance. The prodigal son learned the hard way, but so did the prodigal’s brother.